A Country boy! ha, ha, ha! How long has this scheme been in your head?

Some time.— I am now convinced of what you have often been hinting to me, that I am confoundedly cheated by my servants.

Oh, are you satisfied at last, Mr. Lovel? I always told you, that there is not a worse set of servants in the parish of St. James's than in your kitchen.

'Tis with some difficulty I believe it now, Mr. Free­man; though, I must own, my expences often make me stare.— Phillip, I am sure▪ is an honest fellow; and I will swear for my blacks— If there is a rogue among my folks, it is that surly dog Tom.

You are mistaken in every one. Phillip is an hypro­critical rascal; Tom has a good deal of surly honesty about him; and for your blacks, they are as bad as your whites.

Prithee, Freeman, how came you to be so well ac­quainted with my people? None of the wenches are handsome enough to move the affections of a middle-aged gentleman as you are—ha, ha, ha!

You are a young man, Mr. Lovel, and take a pride in a number of idle unnecessary servants, who are the plague and reproach of this kingdom.

Charles you are an old-fashion'd fellow. Servants a plague and reproach! ha, ha, ha! I would have forty more, if my house would hold them.—Why, man, in Jamaica, before I was ten years old, I had a hundred blacks kissing my feet eve­ry day.

You gentry of the western isles are high-metled ones, and love pomp and parade. I have seen it delight your soul, when the people in the street have stared at your equipage; especially if they wispered loud enough to be heard, "That is squire Lovel, the great West-Indian"—ha, ha, ha!

I should be sorry if we were splenetic as you northern islanders, who are devoured with melancholy and fog—ha, ha, ha! No, Sir, we are children of the sun, and are born to diffuse the bounteous favour which our noble parent is pleased to be­stow on us.

I wish you had more of your noble parent's regularity, and less of his fire. As it is you consume so fast, that not one in twenty of you live to be fifty years old.

But in that fifty we live two hundred, my dear; mark that—But [...] business—I am resolved upon my frolic—I will know whether my servants are rogues or not. If they are, I'll bastmado the rascals; if not, I think I ought to pay [Page] for my impertinence. Pray tell me, is not your Robert ac­quainted with my people? Perhaps he may give a little light into the thing.

To tell you the truth, Mr. Lovel, your servants are so abandoned, that I have forbid him your house. However, if you have a mind to ask him any question, he shall be forth­coming.

Let us have him.

You shall: But it is an hundred to one if you get any thing out of him; for though he is a very honest fellow, yet he is so much of a servant, that he [...]ll never tell any thing to the disadvantage of another.—Who waits?—

Send Robert to me.

And what was it determin'd you upon this project at last?

This letter. It is an anonymous one, and so ought not to be regarded; but it has something honest in it, and put me upon satisfying my curiosity—Read it.

I should know something of this hand—

—Odd and honest! Well—and now what are the steps you in­tend to take?

I shall immediately apply to my friend the manager for a disguise.—Under the form of a gawky country boy, I will be an eye-witness of my servants behaviour. You must assist me Mr. Freeman.

As how, Mr. Lovel?

My plan is this—I gave it out that I was going to my borough in Devonshire; and yesterday set out with my servant in great form, and lay at Basingstoke.

Well?

I ordered the fellow to make the best of his way down into the country, and told him that I would follow him; in­stead of that. I turn'd back, and am just come to town:— Ecce fignum!

It is now one o'clock.

This very afternoon I shall pay my people a visit.

How will you get in?

When I am properly habited, you shall get me intro­duced to Philip as one of your [...]enants sons, who wants to be made a good servant of.

They will certainly discover you.

Never fear; I'll be so countryfied, that you shall not [Page 5] know me. As they are throughly persuaded I am many miles off, they'll be more easily imposed on. Ten to one but they begin to celebrate my departure with a drinking bout, if they are what you describe them.

Shall you be able to play your part?

I am surprised, Mr. Freeman, that you, who have known me from my infancy, should not remember my abili­ties in that way.—How I play'd Daniel in the Conscious Lo­vers at school, and afterwards arrived at the distinguished cha­racter of the mighty Mr. Scrub.

Ha, ha, ha! that is very well—Enough—Here is Robert.

Your honour order'd me to wait on you.

I did, Robert.—Robert—

Sir—

Come here. You know, Robert, I have a good opi­nion of your integrity.

I have always endeavoured that your honour should.

Pray, have not you some acquaintance among Mr. Lo­vel's people?

A little, please your honour.

How do they behave?—We have nobody but friends—you may speak out.

Ay, Robert, speak out.

I hope your honours will not insist on my saying any thing in an adair of this kind.

Oh, but we do insist—If you know any thing—

Sir, I am but a servant myself; and it would not be­come me to speak ill of a brother-servant.

Psha! this is false honesty—speak out.

Don't oblige me, good Sir. Consider, Sir, a servant's bread depends upon his carackter.

But if a servant uses me ill—

Alas, Sir! what is one man's poison is another man's meat.

You see how they trim for one another.

Service, Sir, is no inheritance.—A servant that is not approved in one place, may give satisfaction in another. Every body must live, your honour.

I like your heartiness as well as your caution; but in my case, it is necessary that I should know the truth.

The truth, Sir, is not to be spoken at all times: it may bring one into trouble, whereof if—

Pray, Mr. Lovel, let me see that letter again.

—Aye—It must be so—Ro­bert.

Sir.

Do you know any thing of this letter?

Letter, your honour?

Yes, letter.

I have seen the hand before.

He blushes.

I ask you if you were concerned in writing this letter? You never told me a lie yet, and I expect the truth from you now

Pray, your honour, don't ask me.

Did you write it?—Answer me.

I cannot deny it.

What induced you to do it?

I will tell the truth. I have seen such waste and ex­travagance, and riot and drunkenness, in your kitchen, Sir, that as my master's friend, I could not help discovering it to you.

Go on.

I am sorry to say it to your honour, but your honour is not only imposed on, but laughed at by all your servants espe­cially by Philip, who is a very bad man.

Philip? An ungrateful dog! well?

I could not presume to speak to your honour; and therefore I resolved, though but a poor scribe, to write your honour a letter.

Robert, I am greatly indebted to you—Here—

On any other account than this, I should be proud to receive your honour's bounty; but now I beg to be excused.

Thou hast a noble heart, Robert, and I'll not forget you. Freeman, he must be in the secret. Wait your master's orders.

I will, your honour.

Well Sir, are you convinced now?

Convinced? Yes; and I'll be among the scoundrels before night. You or Robert must contrive some way or other to get me introduced to Philip as one of your cottagers boys out of Essex.

Ha, ha! You'll make a fine figure.

They shall make a fine figure.—It must be done this afternoon:—Walk with me across the park, and I'll tell you the whole.—My name shall be Jemmy; and I am come to be a gentleman's servant—and will do my best, and hope to get a good carackter.

But what will you do if you find them rascals?

Discover myself, and blow them all to the devil.— Come along.

Ha, ha, ha!—Bravo—Jemmy—Bravo, ha, ha!

What wretches are ordinary servants, that go on in the same vulgar track every day! eating, working, and sleeping, —But we, who have the honour to serve the nobility, are of another species. We are above the common forms—have ser­vants [Page 7] to wait upon us, and are are as lazy and luxurious as our masters. Ha! my dear sir Harry.

How have you done these thousand years?

My lord duke! your grace's most obedient servant.

Well, baronet and where have you been?

At Newmarket my lord. We have had dev'lish fine sport.

And a good appearance, I hear. Pox take it, I should have been there; but our old Dutchess died, and we were ob­liged to keep house, for the decency of the thing.

I picked up fifteen pieces.

Psha! a trifle!

The viscount's people, have been bloodily taken in this meeting.

Credit me, baronet, they knew nothing of the turf.

I assure you, my lord, they lost every match; for Crab was beat hollow, Caresess threw his rider, and miss Slam­merkin had the distemper.

Ha, ha, ha! I'm glad on't. Taste this snuff, sir Harry:

'Tis good rappee.

Right Strasburgh, I assure you; and of my own importing.

Aye!

The city-people adulterate it so confoundedly that I always import my own snuff—I wish my lord would do the same; but he is so indolent—When did you see the girls? I saw lady Bab this morning; but, 'fore Gad, whether it be love or reading, she looked as pale as a penitent.

I have just had this card from Lovel's people.—

"Philip and Mrs Kitty present their compliments to Sir Harry, and desire the honour of his company this even­ing, to be of a small party, and eat a bit of supper."

I have the same invitation.—Their master it seems is gone to his borough.

You'll be with us, my lord?—Philip's a blood.

A buck of the first head. I'll tell you a secret,—he's going to be married.

To whom?

To Kitty.

No!

Yes, he is; and I intend to cuckold him.

Then we may depend upon your grace for certain ha, ha, ha!

If our house breaks up in a tolerable time, I'll be with you.—Have you any thing for us?

Yes a little bit of poetry.—I must be at the Cocoa tree till eight.

Heigh-ho! I am quite out of spirits—I had a [Page 8] damned debauch last night, baronet.—Lord Francis, Bob the bishop, and I, tipt off four bottles of Burgundy a piece.—Ha! there are two fine girls coming!—Faith—lady Bab—aye, and lady Charlotte.

We'll not join them.

O yes—Bab is a fine wench, notwithstanding her complexion; though I should be glad she would keep her teeth cleaner.—Your English women are damned negligent about their teeth.—How is your Charlotte in that particular?

My Charlotte!

Ay the world says you are to have her.

I own I did keep her company; but we are off, my lord.

How so?

Between you and me, she has a plaguy thick pair of legs.

Oh! damn it that's insufferable.

Besides, she's a fool, and miss'd her opportunity with the old countess.

I am afraid baronet, you love money. Rot it, I never save a shilling. Indeed I am sure of a place in the ex­cise. Lady Charlottee is to be of the party to night; how do you manage that?

Why, we do meet at a third place; are very civil, and look queer, and laugh, and abuse one another, and all that.

A-la-mode, ha! Here they are.

Let us retire.

Oh fie, lady Charlotte! you are quite indelicate; I am sorry for your taste.

Well I say it again, I love Vauxhall.

O my stars! Why there is nobody there but filthy citizens.

We were in hopes the raising the price would have kept them out, ha, ha, ha!

Ha, ha, ha! Runelow for my money.

Now you talk of Runelow, when did you see the colonel lady Bab!

The colonel! I hate the fellow. He has had the assurance to talk of a creature in Glocestershire before my face.

He is a pretty man for all that, soldiers you know have their mistresses every where.

I despise him. How goes on your affair with the baron [...]t?

The baronet is a stupid wretch, and I shall have nothing to say to him. You are to be at Lovel's to night lady Bab,

Unless I alter my mind. I don't admire visiting these commoners, lady Charlotte.

Oh, but Mrs Kitty has taste.

She affects it.

The duke is fond of her, and he has judgment.

The duke might shew his judgement much better.

There he is, and the baronet too. Take no notice of them. We'll rally them bye-and-bye.

Dull souls! Let us set up a loud laugh, and leave em.

Aye, let us be gone; for the common people do so stare at us we shall certainly be mobb'd.

Ha, ha, ha! ha, ha, ha!

They certainly saw us, and are gone off laughing at us. I must follow.

No, no.

I must I must have a party of raillery with them, a bon mot, or so. Sir Harry you'll excuse me adien. I'll be with you in the evening, if possible—Though, bark ye! there is a bill depending in our house, which the ministry make a point of our attending; and so you know, mum! we must mind the stops of the great fiddle. Adieu.

What a coxcomb this is! and the fellow can't read. It was but the other day that he was cow boy in the country, then was bound 'prentice to a periwig maker, got into my lord duke's family, and now sets up for a fine gentleman. O tempora! O mores!

Sir Harry, prithee what are we to do at Lovell's when we come there;

We shall have the fiddles, I suppose.

The fiddles! I have done with dancing ever since the last sit of the gout. I'll tell you what, my dear boy, I possitively cannot be with them, unless we have a little—

Fie, my lord duke.

Look you, baronet, I insist on it. Who the devil of any fashion can possibly spend an evening without it? bu [...] I shall loose the girls, how grave you look, ha, ha, ha, Well let there be fiddles.

But, my dear lord, I shall be quite miserable with­out you.

Well, I won't be particular; I'll do as the rest do. Tol, lol, lol.

He had the assurance, last winter, to court a tradesman's daughter in the city, with two thousand pounds to her fortune, and got me to write his love letters. He pre­tended to be an ensign in a marching regiment, so wheedled the old folks into consent, and would have carried the girl off, but was unluckily prevented by the washerwoman who hap­pened to be his first cousin.

[Page 10] Mr. Philip your servant.

You are welcome to England, Sir Harry, I hope you received the care, and will do us the honour of your company. My master is gone into Devonshire. We'll have a roaring night

I'll certainly wait on you.

The girls will be with us.

Is this a wedding supper, Phillip.

What do you mean, sir Harry.

The duke tells me so.

The duke's a fool.

Take care what you say; his grace is a bruiser.

I am a pupil of the same academy, and not afraid of him, I assure you. Sir Harry we'll have a noble batch I have such wine for you!

I am your man, Phil.

Egad the cellar shall bleed: I have some Burgundy that is fit for an emperor my master would have given his ears for some of it t'other day, to treat my lord what d'ye call him with. But I told him it was all gone ha! Charity begins at home ha; Odso, here is Mr. Freeman, my masters intimate friend; he's a dry one. Don't let us be seen together he'll suspect something.

I am gone.

Away, away; remember, Burgundy is the word.

Right long corks! ha, Phil?

Your's.

Now for a cast of my office a starch phiz, a canting phrase and as many lies as necessary hem!

Oh, Philip! how do you do, Philip? You have lost your master, I find.

It is a loss, indeed, sir, so good a gentleman▪ He must be nearly got into Devonshire by this time. Sir, your servant.

Why in such a hurry, Philip?

I shall leave the house as little as possible, now his honour is away.

You are in the right, Philip.

Servants at such times are too apt to be negligent and extravagant, sir.

True; the master's absence is the time to try a good servant in.

It is so, sir, sir, your servant.

Oh, Mr, Philip! pray stay; you must do me a piece of service.

You command me sir

I look upon you, Philip, as one of the best behaved, most sensible, completest—

rascals in the world.

Your honour is pleased to compliment.

There is a tenant of mine in Essex, a very honest man Poor fellow, he has a great number of children and they have sent me one of 'em, a tall gawky boy, to make a servant of; but my folks say they can do nothing with him.

Let me have him, sir,

In truth he is an unlik'd cub.

I will lick him into something. I warrant you, sir. Now my master is absent, I shall have a good deal of time upon my hands; and I hate to be idle, sir in two months I'll engage to finish him.

I don't doubt it.

I have twenty pupils in the parish of St. James's and for a table, or a side-board, or behind a equipage, or in the delivery of a message, or any thing.

What have you for entrance?

I always leave it to gentlemen's generosity.

Here is a guinea. I beg he may be taken care of.

That he shall, I promise you

Your honour knows me.

Thoroughly.

When can I see him, sir?

Now; directly call at my my house, and take him in your hand.

Sir, I will be with you in a minute. I will but step into the market to let the next tradesmen know they must not trust any of our servants, now they are at board wages Humph!

How happy is Mr. Lovel in so excellent a servant!

Ha; ha, ha! This is one of my master's prudent friends, who dines with him three times a week, and thinks he is mighty generous in giving me five guineas at Christmas. Damn all such sheaking scoundrels, I say.

Somebody knocks coachy, go, go to the door coachy!

I'll not go do you go, you black dog.

Devil shall fetch me if I go.

Why then let him stay I'll not go damme. Ay, knock the door down and let yourself in.

Ay, ay, knock again, knock again.

Master is gone into Devonshire, so he can't be there So I'll go to sleep.

So will I, I'll go to sleep too.

You lie devil, you shall not go to sleep till I am asleep, I am king of the kitchen.

No, You are not king; but when you are drunk, you are sulky as hell. Here is cooky coming she is king and queen too.

Somebody has knocked at the door twenty times, and nobody hears, Why, coachman, Kingston, ye drunken bears! why don't one of you go to the door?

You go, cook, you go.

Hang me if I go.

Yes, yes, cooky, go, Mollsy, Pollsy, go.

Out, you black toad. It is none of my business, and go I will not.

I might have stayed at the door all night, as the little man in the play says, if I had not had the key of the door in my pocket. What is come to you all?

There is John coachman and Kingston as drunk as two bears.

Ah, ha, my lads! what finished already? These are the very best of servants. Poor fellows; I suppose they have been drinking their master's good journey ha, ha!

No doubt on't.

Yo ho! get to bed, you dogs, and sleep yourselves sober, that you may be able to get drunk again bye-and-bye. They are as fast as a church Jemmy.

Anon.

Do you love drinking?

Yes I loves ale.

You dog you shall swim in Burgundy.

Burgundy! what's that?

Cook, wake those honest gentlemen, and see them to bed

It is impossible to wake them.

I think I could wake 'em sir, if I might, heh

Do, Jemmy, wake 'em, ha, ha, ha!

Hip, Mr. Coachman.

Oh! oh! What! Zounds! Oh! damn you.

What blackey, blackey!

Oh, oh! What now, Curse you! Oh

Ha, ha, ha,

Ha, ha, ha,—Well done, Jemmy. Cook see those gentry to bed.

Marry come up, I say so too; not I indeed.

She shan't see us to bed. We'll see ourselves to bed.

We got drunk together, and we'll go to bed together,

You see how we live, boy.

Yes, I sees how you live.

Let the supper be elegant, cook.

Who pays for it?

My master to be sure; who else? ha, ha, ha, He is rich enough, I hope, ha, ha, ha,

Humph?

Each of us must take a part, and sink it in our next weekly bills; that is the way.

Soh!

Prithee, Phillip, what boy is this?

A boy of Freeman's recommending.

Yes, I'm 'squire Freeman's boy—heh—

Freeman is a stingy bound, and you may tell him I say so. He dines here three times a week, and I never saw the colour of his money yet.

Ha, ha, ha! that is good—Freeman shall have it

I must step to the tallow-chandler's to dispose of some of my perquisites; and then I'll set about supper.

Well said cook, that is right; the perquisite is the thing, cook.

Cloe, Cloe! where are you, Cloe?—

Yes, mistress—

Take that box, and follow me.

Yes, mistress—

—Who is this?

—He, he, he!—Oh—This is pretty, boy —He, he, he!—Oh—This is pretty red hair—He, he, he! You shall be in love with me bye-and-bye—He, he!

A very pretty amour

[...] la! what a fine room is this!—Is this the dining room [...] Sir?

No; our drinking-room.

La! la! what a fine lady [...]—This is madam I [...]ppose.

Where have you been Kitty?

I have been disposing of some of his honour's shirts and other linen, which it is a shame his honour should wear any longer.—Mother Barter is above, and waits to know if you have any commands for her.

I shall dispose of my wardrobe to-morrow.

Who have we here?

A boy of Freeman's; a poor, silly fool—

Thank you

I intend the entertainment this evening as a compliment to you, Kitty.

I am your humble. Mr. Phillip.

But I beg I may see none of your airs, or hear any of our French Gibberish with the duke.

Don't be jealous, Phil.

I intend, before our marriage, to settle something handsome upon you; and with the five hunderd pounds which I have already saved in this extravagant fellow's family—

A dog!

O la, la! what! have you five hundred pounds?

Peace, blockhead.

I'll tell you what you shall do, Phil.

Ay, what shall I do?

You shall set up a chocolate-house, my dear

Yes, and be cucko [...]ded.

You know my edu [...]ation was a very genteel one.—I was a half-boarder at Chelsea, and I speak French like a na­tive Comment vous portez vous Mounfi [...]ur?

Psha, psha!

One is nothing without French. I shall shine in the bar. Do you speak French, boy?

Anon.

Anon O the fool! ha, ha, ha! Come here, do, and let me new-mould you a little. You must be a good boy, and wait upon the gentle folks to-night.

Yes, an't please you, I'll do my best.

His best! O the natural! This is a strange head of hair of thine, boy. It is so course, and so carotty.

All my brothers be red in the pole.

There, now you are somthing like Come. Phillip, give the boy a lesson, and then I'll lecture him out of the Ser­vant's Guide.

Come, Sir, first, Hold up your head; very well; turn out your toes, Sir; very well; now call coach.

What is call coach?

Thus, Sir! Coach, coach, coach!

Admirable! the knave has a good ear Now, Sir tell me a lie.

O la! I never told a lie in all my life.

Then it is high time you should begin now; what is a servant good for that can't tell a lie?

And stand in it Now I'll lecture him

This is "The servant's guide to wealth, by Tymothy Shoul­dernot, formerly servant to several noblemen, and now an offi­cer in the customs; necessary for all servants."

Mind, Sir, what excellent rules the book contains, and remember them well. Come, Kitty, begin.

Advice to the footman.

He, he, he! [...]es, I'll do nothing at all, not I.

You will understand that better one day or other, boy.

To the groom,

Oddines! that's good he, he, he!

Eat the manger! he, he, he!

I won't give you too much at a time Here, boy, take the book, and read it every night and morning before you say your prayers.

Ha, ha, ha! very good; but now for business.

Right I'll go and get one of the damask tablecloaths. and some napkins; and be sure, Phil, your sideboard is very smart.

That it shall. Come, Jemmy

Soh! soh! It works well.

WELL, Phil, what think you? Don't we look ve­ry sma [...]t? Now let 'em come as soon as they will, we shall be ready for 'em.

'Tis all very well, but—

But what?

Why, I wish we could get that snarling cur, Tom, to make one.

What is the matter with him?

I don't know he his a queer son of a—

Oh, I know him; he is one of your sneaking, half bred fellows, that prefers his master's interest to his own.

Here he is.

—And why won't you make one to-night, Tom? Here's cook and coa [...]hman, and all of us▪

I tell you again, I will not make one.

We shall have something that's good.

And make your matter pay for it.

I warrant, now you think yourself mighty honest, ha, ha, ha?

A little honester than you. I hope, and not brag neither.

Hark you, Mr. Honesty, don't be saucy.

This is worth listening to.

What, madam, you are afraid for your cully, are you?

Cully, sirrah, cully! Afraid, sirrah! afraid of what.

Ay, Sir, afraid of what?

Ay, Sir, afraid of what?

I value none of you. I know your tricks.

What do you know, sirrah?

Ay, what do you know?

Ay, Sir, what do you know?

I know that you are in see with every tradesman belonging to the house, and that you Mr Clodpole, are in a fair way to be hanged.

What do you strike the boy for?

It is an honest blow.

I'll strike him again. 'Tis such as you that bring a scandal upon as all.

Come, none of your impudence, Tom.

Egad, madam, the gentry may well complain, when they get such servants as you in their houses.—There's your good friend, mother Barter, the old cloaths woman, the greatest thief in town, just now gone out with her apron full of his honour's linen.

Well, Sir, and did you never ha?

No, never:—I have lived with his honour four years and never took the value of that

—His honour is a prince gives noble wages, and keeps noble compa­ny; and yet you two are not contented, but cheat him where­ever you can lay your fingers. Shame on you!

The fellow I thought a rogue, is the only honest servant in my house.

Out, you mealy-mouth'd cur.

Well, go tell his honour, do—ha, ha, ha!

I scorn that. Damn an informer! But yet I hope his honour will find you two out one day or other that [...]s all.

this fellow must be taken care of.

I'll do his business for him, when his honour comes to town.

You lie, you scoundrel, you will not.

O la! here is a fine gentleman.

Ah, ma chere Madamseile! Comment vous, portez vous?

Fort bien, je vouis remercie, Mounsier.

Now we shall have nonsense by wholesale.

How do you do, Phillip?

Your grace's humble servant.

But, my dear Kitty

Jemmy.

An on

Come along with me, and I'll make you free of the cellar.

Yes—I will—But won't you ask he to drink?

No, no; he will have his share bye-and-bye; come along.

Yes.

Indeed I thought your grace an age in coming.

Upon honour, our house is but this moment up; You have a damned vile collection of pictures, I observe, above [Page 17] stairs, Kitty.—Your 'squire has no taste.

No taste? that's impossible, for he has laid out a vast deal of money.

There is not an original picture in the whole collecti­on; Where could he pick 'em up?

He employs three or four men to buy for him, and he always pays for originals.

Donnez moi votre eau de luce—My head achs confoundedly—( She gives a smelling bottle.)—Kitty my dear I hear you are going to be married.

Pardonnez moi for that.

If you get a boy, I'll be godfather, 'faith.

How you rattle, duke; I am thinking, my lord, when I had the honour to see you first.

At the play, Madamseile.

Your grace loves a play?

No, it is a dull, old-fashioned entertainment I hate it.

Well, give me a good tragedy.

It must not be a modern one then—You are devilish handsome, Kate—Kiss me

Oh oh! are you thereabouts, my lord duke? That may do very well bye-and-bye; However, you'll never find me behind hand.

Stand of, you are a commoner—Nothing under no­bility approaches Kitty.

You are so devilish proud of your nobiliy; Now I think, we have more true nobility than you—Let me tell you Sir, a knight of the shire

A knight of the shire! ha, ha, ha! a mighty ho­nour, truly, to represent all the fools in the county.

O Lud this is charming, to see two nobleman quarrel.

Why, any fool may be born to a title, but only a wise man can make himself honourable.

Well said, Sir Harry, that is good morillity.

I hope you make some difference between hereditary honours and the huzzas of a mob.

Very smart, my lord; Now, Sir Harry—

If you make use of your hereditary honour to screen you from debt.

Zounds, Sir, what do you mean by that?

Hold, hold! I shall have some fine old noble blood spilt here—Ha' done, Sir Harry;

Not I; Why, he is always valuing himself upon his upper house.

We have dignity.

But what becomes of your dignity, if we refuse the supplies?

Peace, peace; Here's lady Bab.

Dear lady Bab

Mrs Kitty, your servant. I was afraid of taking cold, and so ordered the chair down stairs. Well, and how do you do? My lord duke your servant and Sir Harry too your's

Your ladyship [...]s devoted.

I am afraid I have trespassed in point of time

But I got into my favourite author,

Yes, I found her ladyship at her studies this morning. Some wicked poem—

O you wretch? I never read but one book.

What is your ladyship so fond of?

Shikspur. Did you never read Shikspur?

Shikspur! Shikspur! Who wrote it? No, I never read Shikspur.

Then you have an immense pleasure to come.

Well then, I'll read it over one afternoon or other. Here's lady Charlotte.

Dear lady Charlotte!

Oh, Mrs. Kitty, I thought I never should have rea [...]h'd your house. Such a fit of the cholic seixed me. Oh, lady Bab, how long has your lady ship been here? My chair­men were su [...]h drones. My lord duke! the pink of all good bleeding.

O ma'am

And Sir Harry! Your servant, Sir Harry.

Madam your servant. I am sorry to hear your ladyship has been Il

You must give me leave to doubt the sincerity of that sorrow, Sir. Remember the Park.

I'll explain that affair madam.

I want none of your exp [...]anations.

Dear lady Charlotte▪

No, sir; I have observed your coldness of late, and despise you. A trumpery baronet?

I see how it is; nothing will satisfy you but no­bility. That fly dog the marques.

None of your reflections. Sir: The marquis is a person of honour, and above enquiring after a lady's fortune, as you mean [...]y did.

I, I, madam? I scorn such a thing. I assure you madam. I never, that is to say Egad. I am confounded My lord duke, what shall I say to lier? Pray help me out.

Ask her to shew her legs ha, ha, ha!

Here, my little peer, here is wine that will ennoble your [...]lood. Bo [...]h your ladyships most humble servant.

Both your ladyships most humble servant.

Why, Philip, you have made the boy drunk.

I have made him free of the cellar—ha, ha, ha!

Yes, I am free, I am very free.

He has had a smack of every sort of wine, from hum­ble Port to imperial Tokay.

Yes, I have been drinking Kokay.

Go, get you some sleep child, that you may wait on his lordship bye-and-bye.

Thank you madam—I will certainly wait on their lordships, and their ladyships too.

Well, ladies, what say you to a dance, and then to supper?

A dance, a dance:

With submission, the country dances bye-and-bye.

Ay, ay, French dances before supper, and coun­try dances after. I beg the duke and Mrs. Kitty may give us a minute.

Dear lady Charlotte, consider my poor gout. Sir Harry will oblige us.

Minuet, Sir Harry—minuet, Sir Harry.

What minute would your honours please to have?

What minute!—Let me see—Play Marshal thing­umbob's minuet.

A minute by Sir Harry and Kitty, aukward and conceited.

Mrs. Kitty dan [...]es sweetly.

And Sir Harry delightfully.

Well enough for a commoner.

Come now to supper. A gentleman and a lady—Here, fiddler,

wait without.

Yes, an't please your honour.

We will set the wine on the table. Here is Claret, Burgundy, and Champaign, and a bottle of Tokay for the ladies, There are tickets on every bottle. If any gentleman chooses Port—

Port!—Tis only f [...]t for a Dram.

Lady Bab what shall I send you? Lady Charlotte, pray be free: The more free the more welcome, as they say in the country. The gentlemen will be so good as to take care of themse [...]ves.

Lady Charlotte, "Hob or Nob."

Don—my lord—in Burgundy, if you please.

Here's your sweetheart and mine, and the friends of the company.

Come, ladies and gentlemen, a bumper all round I have a health for you. "Here is to the amendment of our ma [...]ers and mistresses."

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

Ladies, pray what is your opinion of a single gentle­man's service?

Do you mean an old single gentleman?

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

My lord duke your toast.

Lady Betty—

Oh no▪ A health and a sentiment.

A health and a sentiment! No, no, let us have a song; Sir Harry your song.

Would you have it? Well then Mrs Kitty, we must call upon you. Will you honour my muse?

A song a song; ay ay, Sir Harry's Song Sir Harry's song.

A song to be sure—but first—preludo

Pray, gentleman put it about

See how the devils kiss.

I am really hoarse; but, hem: I must clear up my pipes. hem; This is Sir Harry [...]s song; being a new song, intitled and called, The Fell [...]w Servant; or, All in a Livery.

How do you like it, my lord duke?

It is a damn'd vile composition.

How so?

O very low ! very low indeed!

Can you make a better?

I hope so.

That is very conceited.

What is conceited you scoundrel?

Scoundrel? You are a rascal.—I'll pull you by the nose.

Look ye, friend, don't give yourself airs, and make a disturbance among the ladies. If you are a gentleman, name your weapons.

Weapons! What you will. Pistols.

Done. Behind Montague house.

Done, with seconds.

Done—

Oh, for shame, gentlemen! My lord duke—Sir Harry, the ladies! fie.

What the devil can that be Kitty

Who can it possibly be?

Kingston, run up stairs and peep.

It sounds like my master's rap. Pray heaven it be not he!

Well, Kingston what is it?

It is master and Mr. Freeman. I peep'd thro' the key hole, and saw them by the lamp light. Tom has just let them in.

The devil he has! What can have brought him back?

No matter what, away with the things.

Away with the wine, away with the plate. Here, coachman, cook. Cloe, Kingston, bear a hand. Out with the candles, away, away.

What shall we do? What shall we do?

Run up stairs, ladies.

No, no, no! He'll see you then.

What the devil had I to do here!

Pox take it, face it out.

Oh no; these West Indians are very fiery.

I would not have him see any of you for the world.

Philip: Where's Philip?

Oh the devil he's certainly coming down stairs. Sir Harry, run down into the cellar. My lord duke, get into the pantry. Away away!

No, no, do you put their ladyships into the pantry, and I'll take his grace into the coal hole.

Any where any where. Up the chimney, if you will.

There in with you.

Philip, Philip,

Coming sir.

Kitty have you never a good book to be reading of?

Yes here is one.

Egad, this is black Monday with us. Sit down seem [Page 22] to read your book. Here he is as drunk as a piper.

Philip the son of Alexander the great, where are all my Myrmidons? What the devil makes you up so early this morning?

He is very drunk indeed ( Aside.) Mrs Kitty and I had [...] good book, your honour.

Ay, ay, they have been well employed, I dare say ha, ha, ha!

Come sit down Freeman. Lie you there ( Lays his pistols down.) I come a little unexpectedly; perhaps Philip.

A good servant is never afraid of being caught Sir.

I have some accounts that I must settle.

Accounts, sir! To night?

Yes to night; I find myself perfectly clear. You shall see I'll se [...]tle them in a twinkling.

Your honour will go into the parlour?

No, I'll settle 'em all here.

Your honour must not sit here.

Why not?

You will certainly take cold, Sir; the room has not been washed above an hour.

What a cursed, lie that is!

Philip, Philip, Philip.

Pox take you! hold your tongue.

You have just nick'd them in the very minute.

I find I have, Mum ( Aside to Freeman.) Get some wine, Philip ( Exit Philip.) Though I must eat something before I drink, Kitty, what have you got in the pantry!

In the pantry? L [...]d, your honour! we are at board­wages.

I could eat a morsel of cold meat,

You shall have it. Here ( Rises.) Open the pantry-door I'll be about your board wages. I have treated you often, now you shall treat your master.

If I may be believed sir, there is not a scrap of any thing in the world in the pantry.

Well then, we must be contented Freeman. Let us have a crust of bread and a bottle of wine

Sir, had not my master better go to bed?

Bed! not I. I'll sit here all night, 'Tis very pleasant and nothing like variety in life.

Mrs. Kitty Mrs Kitty

Peace on your life

Kitty what voice is that?

Nobody, sir. Hem

( Philip brings wine.) Soh, very well, Now do you too march off; march off, I say.

We can't think of leaving your hono [...]r, for egad if we do, we are undone,

Begone—My service to you, Freeman this is good [...]uff

Excellent.

We are undone; undone

Oh, that is the dukes damned rappee.

Didn't you hear a noise Charles?

Somebody sneezed, I thought.

Damn it there are thieves in the house. I'll be a­mong 'em.

Lack-a-day sir, it was only the car. They sometimes sneeze for all the world like a Christian. Here, Jack, Jack, He has got a cold sir, puss, puss.

A cold! then I'll cure him Here, Jack, Jack, puss puss

Your honour won't be to rash. Pray, your honour don't—

Stand off. Here, Freeman here's a barrel for business with a brace of slugs, and well primed as you see; Freeman I'll hold you five to four, nay, I'll hold you two to one, I hit the cat through the key hole of that pantry door.

Try, try; but I think it impossible.

I am a damned good marksman.

Now for it!

Who the devil are all these? One, two, three, four

They are particular friends of mine Sir; servants to some nobleman in the neighbourhood.

I told you there were thieves in the house.

Ha, ha, ha!

I assure your honour they have been entertained at our own expence, upon my word.

Yes, indeed your honour, if it was the last word I had to speak.

Take up that bottle. ( Philip takes up a bottle with a ticket to it, and is going off.) Bring it back. Do you usually entertain your company with Tokay Monsieur?

I, Sir, treat with wine!

O yes, from humble port to imperial Tokay too. Yes I love [...] Kokay.

How! Jemmy, my master!

Jemmy! the devil!

Your honour is at present in liquor but in the morning when your honour is recovered I will set all to rights again.

( Changing his countenan [...].) We'll set all to r [...]ghts now. There I am sober at your service. What have you to say, Philip. ( Philip starts.) You may well start. Go get out of my sight.

Sir I have not the honour to be known to you, but I have the honour to serve his grace the duke of—

And the imprudence familiarly to assume his title. Your grace will give me leave to tell you, that is the door and if you ever enter there again, I assure you, my lord duke. I will break every bone in your grace's skin. Begone.

( Aside.) Low bred fellows!

I beg their ladyships pardon; perhaps they cannot go without chairs ha ha, ha!

Ha, ha, ha?

This comes of visiting commoners.

They are downright Hottenpots.

I hope your honour will not take away our bread.

"Five hundred pounds will set you up in a chocolate house. You'll shine in the [...] madam." I have been an eye witness of your roguery, extravagance, and ingratitude.

Oh, Sir good sir!

You madam, may stay here till to morrow morning. And there madam, is the book you lent me, which I beg you'll read "night and morning before you say your prayers."

I am ruined and undone.

But you Sir, for your villany, and (what I hate worse) your hypocrisy, shall not stay a minute longer in the house; and here comes an honest man to shew you the way but. Your keys, sir.

Tom, I respect and value you. You are an honest servant and shall never want encouragement. Be so good, Tom as to [...] that gentleman out of my house

and then take charge of the cellar and plate.

I thank your honour; but I would not rise on the ruin of a fellow servant.

No remonstrance Tom, it shall be as I say.

What a cursed fool have I been.

Well Charles, I [...] thank you for my frolic— it has been a wholesome one to me. Have I done right?

Entirely. No judge could have determined bett [...] As you punish the bad, it was but justice to reward the good.

A faithful servant is a worthy character.

But what an insufferable piece of assurance is it [...] some of these fellows to affect and imitate their masters manner.

What manners must those be which they can imitate

True.

If persons of rank would act up to their own standard it would be impossible that their servants could ape them. But when they affect every thing that is rid [...]culous, it will be in the power of any low creature to follow their example.